Don't Look Now ★★★★★

Enter the prison of grief: a man's daughter drowns; his reverberating screams bleed his throat as sanguine as her drenched coat.

Enter prison of grief: transition to Venice, the man is surrounded by a water he can neither escape nor admit to affecting him. You bury your grief, you turn away, sometimes even run; but it's always there, and so are you.

Enter the prison of grief: restoring churches is the man's chosen occupation. An attempt to repair shattered memories.

Enter the prison of grief: a lonesome labyrinth of winding alleys, corridors, bridges, unravelling into strangle lands only spradically flecked with familiarity; not dissimilar to a body severed by a train and scattered along its tracks.

Enter the prison of grief: chasing memories of those lost. Chasing memories to the grave.